


Video Games

by bryncurrey



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryncurrey/pseuds/bryncurrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mello sometimes hated himself for letting Matt join him, for giving in to his own selfish need for something real. Someone real. He hated that he had knowingly put the boy in danger. But he convinced himself that it was okay. That Matt had wanted this himself, and he had. He had sought out Mello on his own after Mello had left. Told him that he wasn’t going to be left in the dust while Mello took on the world. Had begged that Mello not leave. Not leave him to be alone at that house once again. He had been so raw, so hurt.<br/>Mello had caved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Video Games

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Matt/Mello story.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mello sometimes wished he didn’t care as much. It all would’ve been so much easier if he had never started caring. He sometimes wished he could turn off his emotions completely; that he could just turn a switch and he would lose the ability to feel. That he could be completely statuesque in the mind. Unbreakable. Unmoving. Unfeeling. He sometimes wished that he didn’t get so angry. That he didn’t yell. That he didn’t hurt the people who he was closest to. But he was angry. He was always so angry.

  
He was never enough, no matter how much he tried. He could never be best. It was all he had ever wanted. To be best. To be number one. But he had cared too much. That was the difference between L and Near and himself. He felt, while they were numb. And he fought, while they processed. It was all much too statistical. Nothing rash. Decisions were made and followed through, with people like them. That was the difference.

  
He sometimes wondered if he would’ve been more like them if Matt hadn’t been in the picture.

 

Blue-eyed, messy-haired, far-too-good-for-this-cruel-world Matt. Damn boy made him feel things. He probably didn’t even know he was doing anything, the idiot.

  
Mello sat on their worn out, rather unattractive couch, gnawing thoughtfully at his chocolate bar while the goggled boy sat on the old leather armchair playing one of his many racing games, swearing loudly as he crashed into what Mello believed to be another car, but he wasn’t sure. Matt’s games always surprised him. Stupid plots, and happy endings. It was nothing like the real world.  
The cruel world. Mello sometimes hated himself for letting Matt join him, for giving in to his own selfish need for something real. Someone real. He hated that he had knowingly put the boy in danger. But he convinced himself that it was okay. That Matt had wanted this himself, and he had. He had sought out Mello on his own after Mello had left. Told him that he wasn’t going to be left in the dust while Mello took on the world. Had begged that Mello not leave. Not leave him to be alone at that house once again. He had been so raw, so hurt.

  
Mello had caved.

  
Of course, he never let Matt out on the field. No, that was far too dangerous. He let Matt do all the work that required no face. Such as hacking, or bugging. He was good at it, too. He sometimes forgot that Matt had been third. Probably could’ve beaten him if he tried.

  
He sometimes wondered why it had been Matt. Why Matt had been the one to change it all. He was rather simple in a way. He completed what he needed to do quickly and efficiently, and then he played games. He was also a cocky and arrogant bastard. Couldn’t forget that.

  
And that was part of the reason that Mello was so goddamn protective. Matt was too cocky for his own good. God, his crass humor and big ego were going to get him hurt one day, and Mello was just trying to prevent that. Keeping Matt safe was priority.

  
“Can you pass me my drink?” Matt asked, through the silence of the room. Mello grabbed an unopened can of Red Bull from the table beside him, and tossed it in Matt’s direction. He caught it without looking away from his game.

  
_Good Reflexes_ , Mello thought.

  
And of course, the sex wasn’t bad either. No, it wasn’t bad at all. When he could get Matt up off his ass and do something other than game, it was actually quite pleasurable. The redhead, no matter how antisocial, was rather good in bed.

  
Mello remembered their first time together. It hadn’t been Mello’s first time. No, with all the mafia stuff, he sometimes had found himself in compromising positions before Matt. Man, woman, it hadn’t really mattered back then. He had gotten the information in any means necessary. It had been Matt’s first time, though. And it had been so hard for Mello to go slow, but he had. Because it was Matt. Anything for Matt.

  
Sex with Matt wasn’t like sex with anybody else, no. Because with Matt he felt something. Something so whole and pure about something that he had once found so routine and dirty. And with Matt everything was heightened. Everything was better. He would never admit it to Matt, no, it would just inflate his already unbelievably large ego, but he relished it. He relished the touching, and the kissing and the act of them as one so much more than he had with anybody else ever.

  
Maybe he should’ve been more affectionate. Maybe he should’ve stopped all the fights before they had started. But that was them. They were beautifully and utterly destructive.

  
Almost an hour past, and neither of them said anything. Mello had finished his book, and was watching Matt play his game. He still couldn’t name which one it was. He didn’t see what Matt saw in his games. Staring at pixilated animations for too long gave Mello a headache. And he honestly found it such a bore. Sometimes he played with Matt if he was in a good mood, but mostly he liked to steer clear of the games.

  
“What’s the point?” Mello asked after a moment.

  
It took a few seconds for Matt to reply, as he was seemingly caught up in a race or a chase. Mello did not know. “Huh?” he replied, his gaze staying glued to the television screen.

  
“What’s the point of the game?” Mello repeated, sitting on the armrest of the chair. Matt glanced at him for a moment, but quickly looked back to his game. “I mean, you’re going to complete it one day,” Mello continued, “and I guess there’s an endgame, but don’t you get bored knowing that the story is already written? That there’s nothing you can do to change it, however hard you try. How can you stand knowing that it’s set in stone?”

  
Matt didn’t reply immediately, dodging some sort of flying object with his shiny red car. “It’s not so much that I want to change it-damn!” One of the flying objects hit his car. After a few more curse words strung together, he continued on. “I don’t play these games to get a sense of justice, you know? I play them to get out of all that. Use my mind for something other than just a mind. Sometimes it’s nice to do something just for yourself, and not for the benefit of anything else. Sometimes it’s good to just get out of everything for a while.”

  
Mello decided that Matt must’ve won his race, because the red-haired boy let out a hiss of “yes,” and let his controller fall to his lap. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a package of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He propped one of the thin cigarettes on his lip, and lit it, the smoke rising as he slowly blew it from his lips. “What’s with all these philosophies all of a sudden?” he asked, leaning back in the leather armchair, looking quite comfortable.

  
“I just don’t understand it,” Mello said, leaning into the chair as well. He stared straight at the ceiling. “You don’t do something for nothing. You have to get something out of it.” He kept his head still, but his eyes flicked over to Matt’s face. “What do you get out of these video games? There has to be something.”

  
Matt blew out another breath of smoke, and stared in contemplation. He tapped the cigarette against the nearby ashtray. “It might sound pretty shitty, or sort of cliché, but peace, I guess.”

  
“Peace?” Mello questioned.

  
“Yeah, peace. I know it sounds stupid,” Matt confirmed. “But it gets my head out of all the shit for a while. I get to think about something else. Something good.”

  
Mello felt something tighten in his chest. Matt wouldn’t be involved in any of the shit if it wasn’t for him. He had brought Matt into this. Matt could’ve had better. Matt should’ve had better. “Sorry,” Mello said curtly.

  
“Huh?” Matt said, looking up at him with a slightly startled expression.

  
“Sorry that I brought you into all this,” he explained.

  
Matt’s expression softened. “It’s not your fault,” he said, letting the cigarette balance against the ashtray. “Believe me when I say this; it would’ve been much worse If I was alone.”

  
Mello shook his head. “No. You would be safe. You would be better off back at Wamm-”

  
Matt cut him off. “No, Mello, I wouldn’t be better off at Wammy’s. Do you see me now? Hell, I’m enough of a mess now. Imagine what I would be like alone. Without anybody. I’d go crazy, Mels.”  
Mello’s brows furrowed, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line, but he did not say anything. Matt continued.

  
“Believe it or not, but even with all this stuff going on, and even with everything that both of us have had to go through, I’m happy. I’m happy with what I’ve got.”

  
“You could be happier…” Mello started, but Matt grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him close. Mello had no choice but to stare directly into those goggled eyes.

  
“I’m happy now, Mels. I’m where I want to be. Which is right here, with you, in our shitty apartment on our shitty armchair. I don’t need anything fancy. I never have. God, we could live on the street and I’d be happy. Because we’d be we. It wouldn’t be just me, and it wouldn’t be just you; it would be us. We’re going to go through tough times, yes. There will be downs, but there will also be ups. I get crazy when I’m alone for too long, and so do you. But I’m happy, Mello. And you should be too.”

  
Mello didn’t say anything. He looked at Matt, blinking a few times, before pulling his goggles up over his head. Matt made a noise of protest, before Mello leaned forward and kissed him firm on the lips. Matt seemed to forgive and forget as he wrapped his arms around Mello’s torso, and pulled him close.

  
They didn’t do this enough anymore; just get lost in each other. With everything happening all around them, there hadn’t been a given chance. To be completely honest, Mello had missed Matt. His jobs of lately had taken him far from home, and he only had three more days till he was travelling to Japan. He was going to take as much Matt-time as he could. Because sometimes he didn’t know if he would return. And that scared Mello more than he ever wanted to admit.

  
What Matt had said earlier was true. Matt would go crazy if he was left alone. He needed something. Mello wasn’t scared of dying. The thought had never provoked much in him. Dying was inevitable. But he was scared to leave Matt alone. He was scared about what would happen to Matt after he was gone.

  
Matt pulled Mello onto his lap, pushing his hands up the back of his leather vest, as he parted their lips with his tongue. Yes, Mello had missed this. Missed being with Matt. Not just the sex, and not just the affectionate bickering, but the whole package. He had missed being able to be open with someone. Matt didn’t know the power he had over Mello. All he had to do was ask, and Mello wouldn’t be able to say no. Not to Matt.

  
Mello let out a small sigh as Matt’s lips began working down the pale exposure of his throat, stopping to suck lightly at a point in the dip of his collarbone. Mello tilted his head to the right, giving Matt as much access as he needed. He let out a small whine as Matt nipped at his skin, closing eyes.

  
He felt Matt smile against his skin, a slight chuckle vibrating against his lips. “You sound cute,” he murmured, knowing fully well how much Mello hated that word.  
Mello’s eyebrows pulled together. “Shut up,” he growled, but Matt just continued to chuckle.

  
Matt continued to kiss him, and Mello felt an urge to just be close. He wrapped his arms around Matt, and held on. Because for once in his life, he was scared. He was so scared of one of them losing the other.

  
Matt, seemingly sensing Mello’s struggle, sighed. “You don’t need to worry about anything, yet. You shouldn’t spend the time you have worrying about all the little things that might go wrong. That’s not a way to live.”

  
Mello let out a bitter laugh. “None of this is living, Matt. None of this is normal.”

  
“I don’t want normal, Mello. And I sure as hell know that you don’t want normal,” Matt said, leaning his head against the armchair. “You and I wouldn’t last five minutes in a normal life. It would be boring. We’d go crazy.”

  
“I know, it’s just…” Mello breathed out in frustration. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say. He could never say what he wanted to say. “You’re right, I guess. It’s just…I just…”

  
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Matt said, leaning closer. “I’m not going to sit here while you grovel and feel sorry for yourself.” Mello glared at him. Matt’s gaze softened. “Seriously. What’s going on?”

  
Mello let out a puff of air. “I guess I just wish we could have some sort of confirmation, you know? Like I wouldn’t have to worry that someone’s going to die, every day.”

  
“Yeah,” Matt replied. “But this is the life that we got. Don’t waste it wishing.”

  
Mello stayed quiet for a moment. “I guess,” he said quietly.

  
Matt smiled. “C’mon, lighten up! We’re going to die someday, it’s inevitable, but it’s not going to be today. Now, I need someone to play this with in multiplayer mode. You down?”

  
Mello looked at Matt’s expression, smiling and excited, and he couldn’t say no. “Yeah, sure,” he replied, climbing off of Matt’s lap to go grab the second controller.

  
They played the game well into the evening, as Matt rambled on and on about the developers history, and Mello let him talk. Maybe he got too angry about the video games, sometimes. They promised an outcome, and they promised a safety. Multiple lives to be lost. A planned-out route. Something that he couldn’t have in reality.

  
He couldn’t say not to Matt. He’d never been able to. Not when he’d left Wammy’s, and not when they’d left for Japan.

  
So, Mello played the game.

  
~*~

  
_No_ , is the first thing he thinks when he hears the news reporter. _This can’t be happening, this cannot be happening._

  
Dead. Matt’s not dead. _Matt can’t be dead._

  
His hand clutches the steering wheel so much that his hands physically ache, but it doesn’t even begin to render with the eternal pain he is feeling at the moment. Because Matt can’t be dead. Matt was never supposed to get involved in any of this. But Mello hadn’t been able to say no. He’d never been able to say no

  
It’s his fault. If he had just said no in the first place, Matt would still be alive. Matt would be happy, somewhere else, somewhere good.

  
“I’m sorry,” he says out loud to the silent front seat of the truck. “You were never supposed to be killed… forgive me…”

  
_Forgive me,_ he thinks, _forgive me for being selfish. Forgive me for not letting you have a life of your own. Forgive me for not being able to say no, to be able to give you the life you deserved._

  
None of this should be happening. He should be the one who’s dead. Not Matt. Because Matt never did anything wrong. Mello did all the dirty work. Matt was in the background.

  
_How did you let this happen?_ He thinks, closing his eyes.

  
He doesn’t care when the truck hits the side of the building, and he doesn’t care when he feels the worst pain he has ever felt in his life.

  
_Forgive me,_ he thinks, as his vision starts to blur.

  
_Forgive me._


End file.
